Plastic Philosophy
by Kid9535
Summary: Ahh, so shabby. Near and L make philosophies. Set at Wammy's house.


A/N: I have a Happy Meal toy in front of me and a sudden Near ficlet struck me. The truth is; the philosophy came to me while I was being sadistic yesterday and wanted to freak out my sister. It didn't work.

Summary: L visits Near and they create a few philosophies.

Disclaimer: I own neither Death Note nor the Happy Meal toy. Wait, I do own the Happy Meal toy, just not the copyright.

**Plastic Philosophy**

"Near, was it? Pleased to meet you, I'm-"

"L. I know. Thank you for visiting me, though I can't say I am flattered for your visit, I thank you for taking the time to come all the way to England to visit Wammy's House." A bored, curt reply wafted through the air, interrupting the earlier sentence. The albino sat in the middle of the room, fiddling with wind-up toys, robots, blocks, puzzles and toys of every shape and size.

"It was no problem at all." A faint scratching accompanied the assurance; a hunched figure squatted down, positioning himself beside the albino, L blinked as he surveyed the multitude of toys and puzzles cluttering the floor.

"Pardon the mess, it's not usually this messy, it's just that Mello came in here earlier, knowing that I was such a neat freak and wishing to delay my meeting with you, trashed the entire room. It doesn't matter to me; I'll clean it up later." Near twirled a lock of silver between his fingers and wound up a toy robot with his free hand. He'd mastered indifference at the age of 5 and now, facing this world renowned detective was not something he'd get jittery about. Not like the others. He recalled earlier in the day when the raven-haired detective had first entered the orphanage, the welcome party was unbearable, Near could hear it all the way from his room at the end of the hall. Kids at Wammy's were very, very noisy. Despite the fact that they were gifted. No wonder L seemed so disheveled.

Near slowed the turning of his key as he felt the elastic potential of the clockwork reach its limit, he glanced at the detective who was apparently sucking his thumbnail, watching him with owl-like dark-ringed eyes, and he didn't seem to blink. It must be an observatory method, thought Near who waved off the curious habit and turned back to the robot. He set it on the ground and watched it wobble it's way to the end of the boundary of blocks he'd built earlier and then turned slightly due to bad craftsmanship, it finally slowed it's walking speed and Near picked it up after it stopped, yet as if it was still unrelenting to it's exhausted potential energy, it continued to make jerking leg movements.

Near 'ch'd', and mumbled 'We're all like robots, wound-up toys from second grade free gifts from Happy Meals. When we're first wound-up we're all rearing to go, then when we touch the ground, we're still moving but at an uneven rate, all wobbly. It stays like that still we finally slow and stop, but we struggle even when we're sure we're going to meet our maker. That just shows how pathetic some people can be.'

He didn't think L was listening until he took out a lollipop from his pocket and mumbled another philosophy 'Life's sweet yet when we reach the hardcore of the stick of lollipop, we're reluctant to let go even when we're sure that all the sweet has gone. That shows how dedicated some people are to life.'

Leaning forward, Near started to assemble a puzzle.

After a few moments of silence, with the soft clacking of the pieces as the picture slowly started to form, L stood and with a hunched posture, left the room.

Near stole a glance at the discarded wind-up toy and picked it up off the cold unforgiving floor. He took a screw driver and as he took out each limb, separating each piece of plastic from the toy, dismantling it, he thought 'Some of us want to discover the joys and secrets in life even though we know it's going to end the same. It's all the same.'

He tossed all the pieces into the toy box behind him as a final thought crossed his mind before he finished the puzzle and left the room. 'Death.'

The End

A/N: Time to start on those deadlines and sequels. Oh and if someone wants to use this idea, since I was toying with it but I'm too lazy to put it on paper:

Mello never wins because…

'To be Number 1  
To have to train like your number 2'

I got it from my PE teacher's t-shirt. Property of Adidas.


End file.
